


A Frenzy to a Respite

by MiscWorker



Category: Furry (Fandom), League of Legends
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 14:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18367787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiscWorker/pseuds/MiscWorker
Summary: A man's obsession with hunting leads him to encountering Death, which takes the form as a strange yet convenient portrayal.





	A Frenzy to a Respite

  
  
  
  
  


A Frenzy to a Respite

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Based on  _ League of Legends  _ by Riot Games

 

By Miscellaneous Worker

 

 Pain, oh dear,  _ pain _ ! My head was spinning with such impact that I would not have been surprised to see my whole body spilling out in a growing puddle of crimson beneath me, but alas, there was only dirt and grass shrubbery, with a terribly inconvenient rock at the end of the length of my leg.

 I certainly was hurt, though- there was no doubt about that. I had tripped in a sudden rush of instinct, but that drew back as a consequence and resulted in my silly clumsiness. From the sudden fall, my head hit the pebble ridden ground and fortunately not another rock or such an obstacle to possibly even kill me… that would be an embarrassing death. My ankle was definitely sprained, for my eyes widened in a painful shock the instant I tried to move it.

 I rubbed my now dirty forehead and refreshed myself with a rough cough, expecting something to come out, but I seemed not as hurt as I mentally felt to be. I prepared to turn myself over on my side, feeling for the pain in my ankle, and in a quick roll I finally sat up straight with a limp left foot.

 I breathed in tightly at my own movements, withstanding the pain that slowly diminished to a withstandable soreness once my pain tolerance took over, and I pulled myself back to lean against a tree. Finally with enough awareness of what was happening, I tried to put my mind on  _ what _ happened. Nothing could come to me, but it felt to be a brush with death almost, so quick that I was blinded by its trauma before I could reason what it was. I examined my surroundings with wonder: it was the usual forest scenery I saw very often, towered with trees, dotted with plants, and carpeted with grass. There was nothing odd anywhere to be seen.

 I rubbed my eyes with weird drowsiness, and I managed to pull myself up using the tree behind me. I could walk in a limp, and that was a great relief. I picked up my leather bag I was carrying before the fall and looked back at the direction I remember walking from. The memory from the entire day had dissipated from my mind, and I did my best to move past it as I struggled to walk home.

 

 From the look of the amount of war, conflicts and constant connections between the great lands around, I am certainly grateful for not being affiliated with such lands- instead, I live in an isolated hamlet of a little over a hundred people who are left alone in the event of any war or diplomatic events. The Freljord north of us dismissed our unnamed home half a century ago for any chance of their power claiming us, and the more distant kingdoms of Noxus and Demacia either did not care for us or even know of our existence.

 I enjoy the simplicity of it as well; without the issues of the latter, I feel that I can be closer with nature and more appreciative of the world. The small community was close, its people looking after one another whether they were family, friend or even a passing visitor. There had not been any case of wrongdoing or crime as far as I can remember, and I truly felt safe with the people.

 Despite such a wholesome lifestyle though, it felt lacking in vibrance and, say, freshness. I had desires beyond the life of the settlement, for something breathtaking. I had considered coming to the lands of Freljord to meet the glorified warriors and perhaps learn their ways of the north, or maybe even leave and settle in Piltover like I had imagined doing since my first visit there, which had filled me with great excitement at the time. Alas, I have never done such, and I have missed many opportunities in the past from the many passing parties and caravans. To say the least, I explored my fair share of the wilderness around, even having traveled the the tropics to indulge in a different hunting environment.

 But when it came to simply leaving here… Why did I not take those opportunities?..

 And then, I sensed an odd synergy of thoughts bewilder me: the brush of death that came past me earlier before I had fallen felt strangely similar to that desire of life. Why would two feelings originating from such different reasons feel so alike? I pondered over it as I arrived to my personal cottage, which was given to me as a gift from my family line, to which I am alone for hundreds of miles. Much of my family dispersed to other kingdoms, while I stayed here in the place I could call home.

 The evening came in nicely like a cool breeze: the sun lowered itself below the far west horizon, the low mountains turning into a black outline that complimented the decreasing parallel of orange and red. It was nearly winter, and the evening sky had transitioned over the autumn months from the summer residue of bright colors to a darker, soothing shade of blue.

 Once the night finally overcame all light, except for that coming from the lovely night sky of our galaxy above, I settled into my bedding and stared up at the ceiling, ever so lightly feeling my ankle with the rest of my left leg. I had tied around it to keep it straight, and a cane was to my side in case I felt I had to walk. At the moment though, I want to simply lie still and rest for a while, thinking to myself about life.

 Along the walls were a collection of hides I had retrieved over the years; I was a skilled hunter, a great one, if I’m allowed to add. Ever since I was a child, my father taught me every method around hunting as if it was truly the most important feat there was in life, and I feel that I have been hypnotized to believe such. I do enjoy it very much, possibly more than anything else…

 There is a great burst of excitement that erupts inside me for a very brief moment whenever I am victorious in the challenge between man and animal, especially with that of greater beasts. And, it  _ has _ to be a challenge, otherwise what is the point? Even with the smallest critters such as a rabbit, I must capture it in the most obscure way there is, leaving bait and a deathtrap that would execute it beautifully.

 When it comes to the larger hunted ones such as wolves and bears, I like to treat it as a real honorable battle in either wit or true strength. I have wrestled with bears twice my size, coming out scratched and bloody yet victorious, and entire packs of wolves have approached me treating me like a challenger to their group, allowing their alpha to fight me with honor… The blood in that winter snow triggered me with an incredible adrenaline rush every time, making me shake with obsessive pleasure as I walked away with the corpse of a canine pulled behind me in a sled.

 Above all, though- above the sense of victory, the sensation of killing- there was the fur. The fur of all animals was the greatest pleasure of them all; for there to be so many different textures, patterns, colors, and thicknesses, it pushes me over the edge of intoxication, even at some points to the point of being a sexual obsession.

 I wanted it all, the fur of every animal- no, it was beyond a simple want. I  _ needed _ it. All around me in my home was pelt after pelt of skin and fur of over four hundred animals, from that of a small rabbit decorating the wall with other small critters to entire rugs of tigers and bears, and a bed that brought me closer to my love with layer after layer of varying blankets of the wonderful material. The wall and floors were nonexistent- there was more fur on the inside than there was wood making up the cottage itself.

 I found myself turning drowsy, and the small tray of candle lights on the table near me was nearing its death. I did not feel like relighting them, especially with a nicely lit fireplace in the corner of the room assuring me warmth and light for the night, and I readjusted myself before falling into an unusually deep sleep.

 

 But it was not deep enough to deafen myself. My eyes sprung open at the distant sound of a rope tightening and a squirrel squealing for an instant. I silently searched through my memory in thought, and I remembered exactly where the trap was.

 I knew I should simply continue to sleep- I cannot let myself be a slave to this obsession, I thought. There was not a species I hadn’t caught around here, I told myself, but then again came the argument that motivated me to leave my slumber every time:

 “Or is there?” I whispered to myself.

 Before I moved, though, I remembered my sprained ankle, and I wondered to myself if it would do more harm than good for my sanity to go out with the injury in the middle of the night. Winter was drawing near, and it was certainly to be cold out there in the darkness.

 But then, I was truly shocked with amazement as I moved my left foot: the ankle, it was healed! I sat up straight and stared at it as I continued to fidget with my foot, every movement of it filling me with endless confusion and wonder. It was something of the work of magic, almost, and I felt it was righteous of me to take such a great yet realistically small miracle as a sign and prepare to move out into the night.

 With a lantern in hand, I set off towards the trap I pinpointed in the mental map of my head. It definitely was cold as I imagined it to be, but I did not plan to be out for too long. Just reach the trap, find the animal, and return home… Simple! It took a lot to make me shiver, and I was not about to let myself fall to the mild temperatures of the autumn night take me.

 I walked in one direction for a bit of time, minding the trees and being more careful about the terrain to not trip again. I actually felt very foolish about that accident, the moment of it returning to me after every step I made with my left foot, and I wondered how such a thing could have happened to a person like me, for I have explored around this forest for most of my life. It didn’t make sense, and I was bothered by it while also being ashamed in myself.

 The lantern I took with me was not so necessary; it was a full moon tonight, but it shined a strong aura that was brighter than normal. It felt that I was being pushed to come out and unveil the victim to this trap by some greater force, and more and more was I excited to find this victim- Alas, I was excited for nothing. It was the usual forest rabbit that I always saw, and I sighed as I took a knee to the poor creature which was strained in a tight grip by a rope around its neck.

 It was not dead, but instead frozen in fear. Feeling rather less energetic than I anticipated myself to be upon coming to the trap, I simply untied the rope and let the rabbit scurry off into the shadows. It was then I realized something very odd: a rabbit out of its hole at night. Never do the small critters here come out at night unless they are a nocturnal type, so I was immediately met with suspicion once I realized the abnormality.

 Despite that, I was quite unsatisfied with the trap’s success, and I did not feel like returning home so soon, especially with the healing of my ankle I was gifted and the soothing blue ambience of the full moon. I reset the trap for hopefully a better capture in the near future, though I did not know what to expect that would really satisfy me at this point besides the wilder beasts, and I continued walking in the direction that I left my cottage in the village.

 As I walked through the forest, I eventually blew out my lantern myself to appreciate the aesthetic setting I was in. Rarely do I sense a beauty in most things- besides fur and the glorious hunt, of course- and sometimes I think that I am not appreciative enough of nature for as much as I enjoy to kill animals. I wondered to myself what it was that made me enjoy to kill… I was no angry person, nor was I stressed. Sometimes a hunt is so easy that after I have succeeded in the kill, it instead feels rather like murder… Why?

 I saw a bright reflection a short distance away, the moon forming a light string of white lights upon a small pond. I approached and looked down upon it, myself being invisible in the darkness. It was as still as the air around, and it was only then that I also realized the dead silence that lingered. No owls hooting, no wolves howling… even the fish in the pond were nowhere to be seen as I stared into it.

 A shiver crawled down my spine when my reflection suddenly appeared, and I momentarily froze as I gazed at myself: the sharp cut of my dark hair mirrored the brightness that erupted so suddenly, shining a bit of white from the light. I wore a senseless combination of dark fur that formed a coat, with a scarf that wrapped around my neck to my chin. My skin looked oddly pale compared to the rest of my appearance of dark fur clothing, up and down, and my face popped out with great contrast.

 After that instant of self examination, certainly with no love with the reflection, I turned myself around to gaze upon the source of light, and then my life had changed forever.

 The intense yet subtle light in the darkness blurred my vision to focus on nothing but the true definition of beauty before me. For the first time in what felt like years, my mouth gaped open; I finally found something that intimidated me, and it was beyond anything human. My legs shook in the presence of it and fell onto my bottom, almost splashing into the pond.

 It was an animal. An extraordinary one, there was no doubt at all. To even describe the sight of it felt to be a right I did not deserve, and that any word I used would be an insult to it because it would not be true enough to its wondrous appearance, but in my mind I must say something of it, and my eyes were trapped in a gaze upon the most delicious trait of it:

 The fur. The pure white, clean, young fur of the animal, from its black hind hooves, up its tiny tailed legs, and to its inflated, fluffy chest. It was still a true beauty, but irregularities began from its chest up, with strands of black fur randomly grown out of the white fluff. Up from its torso, its head showed something of another world, or an entirely different dimension. It was masked in a dark purple and white color, a material that looked deteriorated with time, it had a slim slope downwards to follow the animal’s head, but higher up it widened intensely, with sculpted ears pointing at the top but another pair on the sides. The colors of it were divided in a symmetrical fashion, somewhat blending in with each other, but it didn’t seem right with the way they intertwined with one another.

 The animal’s head was bushy with yet more fluffs of white hair from behind, forming what seemed to be hair relative to that of a human’s but still animalistic in the sense of its wild appearance. Along its head were what I assumed to be ears: flaps of skin and fur that dropped gently, striped three times with a circular pattern in between, all in a lightly glowing blue. This same color lined across its legs in symmetrical patterns and then halfway up its torso.

 The animal’s eyes complimented the color as well, boasting a magnificent sparkle and blend of the light blue and purple through circular eye holes in the mask. Between and above its eyes was a particular mark of two separate segments joining one another to make a single symbol, lightly marked in white and purple; there was an easily detectable significance of the mark.

 The animal stood in a glorious stance, balancing itself on a single hoof while the other leg crossed behind the other. It was then once I glanced upon what it was holding- a bow half its size and matching of the many colors it presented, with unreal craftsmanship- that I realized it had hands, unlike the hooves on its lower half. They were five fingered like mine, or at least the hand holding the bow was, as the other was tucked behind its back as the animal puffed its chest out proudly, staring down on me like it was above everything there was.

 And, I respected that feeling, and to even be acknowledged by it of my presence felt honorable enough.

 I did not know what to feel; there was awe, then fear, then wonder. I had never felt so confused of my emotions, and that enough scared me immensely.

 It was all in such a short span of time to feel so much at once, and all I could utter from it was, “Wh-What?”

 It did not speak. I felt that it was a female, if it had to have a gender, because of its intimidation coming from its superior beauty rather than fearful presence, but my worry was confirmed as it drew its bow in response, pulling the string on a light wisp of an arrow that formed in mid air, confusing me before the arrow shot from the bow to my chest. With sudden instinct, I caught the arrow with my right hand, pushing it onto the ground.

 After I realized what I had done, I took a gasp of pain, turning my hand over to see the terribly deep cut the arrow had produced before it dissipated into nothing. I was horrified, and I looked back at the animal with disbelief as my hand twitched with pain.

 It was motionless for a moment, then it finally lowered its bow and set its arm behind its back again, and in a mature, ascended voice of a female, it asked, “Why do you dress yourself in so much fur?”

 She… Her voice eliminated the pain so swiftly… I stared at her still with horror but once again awe. I asked her in harsh exhalation, “Why did you do that?”

 “Quite rude to answer a question with another. I was offering you a death without such, mind you. Now again, I ask of you-” She stepped forward, tilting her head further down at me, “Why do you dress yourself in so much fur?”

 As she approached me, I moved myself back, forgetting about the pond and wetting my left hand and the end of my sleeve. I sputtered at her, “You tried to kill me, why?!”

 “Because, it is what I do. Vincent, I will not ask you politely again:  _ Why _ do you dress yourself in so much fur?”`

 I swallowed with a loud gulp at the sound of my name, and I felt my face turn red. I hadn’t even noticed the question she was asking because of the shock that was overwhelming me. Finally, I answered her in a stutter that was rare for me to produce, “Because, I love fur.”

 “Why, Vincent?”

 I swallowed again, “It… It comforts me.”

 She said nothing for a moment, appearing as if she was examining me, until she finally replied, “I can agree. It is a comfortable texture. You look to like you enjoy a darker color as well.”

 “I… I suppose so.”

 “Here. Come up and speak with me.” She let out a hand towards me, the three fingers reaching out to me, and I hesitated to touch her. A part of it was because I was afraid to come near someone- or, something?- that had just attempted to kill me, but a majority of it was because I did not feel I had the right to make contact with such a figure of magnificence.

 She thought otherwise, though, and she reached down and took my cut hand without any care for the blood, instructing me again to stand. I stood myself up and stood before her, and then I realized that she was taller than I was, about half an entire head of mine in height. I felt small by her, and I couldn’t look at her eyes without thinking she was staring at me with disappointment.

 She did not let go of my hand, as if she was forgetting she had even taken it to begin with. I asked sheepishly, “What are you?”

 She gave a muffled sigh inside her mask, which sounded separate from her omniscient voice, then she answered, “They always ask, ‘What are you?’ but not, ‘ _ Who _ are you?’ Why can I not be seen as a person?.. But, to answer you, Vincent-” She held her hand up with mine to my chest level, “- I am a worker of Death. To you, I might appear as many possible visuals. Some have described me to be a merciless being who carries a scythe beside her and not a bow. I’ve been seen as a gaping mouth of terror who does not offer swift release, but instead a long, painful death…”

 She tightened her grip around my hand, “How do I appear to you?”

 I stared at her with uncertainty, and all I could answer was, “An animal.”

 “An animal? What animal?”

 “I… I do not know. You look beautiful-” The words came out without any thought, and I instantly expected it to be the worst possible thing I could have said, despite it being honest and a compliment.

 Instead, she responded softly, “Beautiful like a Lamb?”

 “A Lamb?” I again voiced my thoughts louder than I intended, and I went along and continued, “But your fur…”

 “So you see my real form.” She set her bow down and took me with both hands now, “I am a simple Lamb then. What is it of my fur that distracts you?”

 I was not exactly distracted by it, but rather focused, though one question still hurt my head to think, “It is unreal, is what- why did you try to kill me?”

 “I have already answered that.”   
 “But  _ why _ me? If it is the face of Death I am truly looking upon, has my time come? What have I done to deserve my death now?”

 “You have done nothing,” Lamb let her hands leave mine, unbothered by the blood that collected onto them, “My hunger is one that requires the most expensive feast to be sated, and that is death, you see. My intention was for you to be my meal of murder, and nothing more.”

 “Ahh…” I was uncertain what to be afraid of: her intention to kill me, or that she casually says such so easily.

 “The first arrow, I did not imagine you would bother to hurt yourself like that instead of relieving yourself of this world. I had foreseen you doing such, but I doubted myself, clearly.”

 “Well…” Finally finding awareness in the situation, I inched around the pond and slowly backed away from Lamb, moving beside a tree as if to hide behind it. “Lamb, I don’t want to die now…” It felt childish to say, and I didn’t know what good it would do for me.

 “That is not for you to decide,” Lamb retrieved her bow from the dirt ground and held it in both hands, “It is my choice only. It would be easier if I was more simple about my meals, and we would need not to talk over this, but I am a lonely entity in this dark life.”

 She readied her bow, and I cried out to her, “What have I truly done to deserve this? Are you a figment of nature and this is my punishment for my disrespect of your kind? Is it the countless games I have played hunting animals? What is it?!”

 “Goodbye, Vincent.” She pulled the string, and I instantly ran in a flurry of steps. I anticipated a strike to come from behind any moment, and my legs filled with panic and my lungs with ice as I inhaled the cold air in one harsh pant after another.

 The moon did not seem to brighten the night as well as it did before; no clouds had blocked its view, and I realized that it was my vision which was darkening. I ran without looking back, ridiculously expecting the arrow to still be following me all this time. My steps turned colder and colder as my body did as I sprinted for a long moment, with nothing being heard but my own sounds. I couldn’t breath- the cold air was filling my lungs so much, and I thought I was going to collapse any moment.

 It then came to me that I was not even running towards the village, and I had mindlessly set off into the wilderness where there was no chance of help anywhere for me, but what  _ could _ help against this? She knew my name- she sought me out. She could find me anywhere. There was no use in running. There was no use in running…

 I slowed myself to a stop, and the instant I stood I stumbled to the ground and laid unstill, still breathing and shaking from the cold. I pulled my coat tighter around me and closed my eyes tightly as I tried to calm myself the best I could.

 Suddenly, I was turned over with a force on my side, and I opened my eyes to see Lamb with her hoof to my chest, her bow still ready with the string pulled and the mystical arrow glowing in place.

 “I was right about healing you of your injury,” she said in a glorious monotone.

 “It… It was you who did that?”

 “Rightly so. I enjoy a good hunt, though you did give up sooner than I had hoped for.”

 I set my head back in exhaustion and sighed, “Likewise, I enjoy the same. Please, Lamb, spare me, for whatever the expense may be.”

 “Those expenses are too much for the likes of you to pay.”

 “Whatever it may be, giving me a chance is better than putting me down now, is it not?”

 Lamb was still with her bow aimed- there was no way to tell if she was thinking over anything or not, with her face sealed and her eyes not even being eyes, but instead the pulsing color of blue and purple glowing out of the eyeholes.

 “Very well then.” She lowered her bow to her side and pulled me up by my bloody hand again, which I had forgotten about once the pain stopped earlier. “Do not see yourself as any exclusion to the others I have encountered in the past, though. They all beg for this chance, and a majority of those beggars I refuse to give such, and those I do give it are not successful. I see you as the usual failure to come.”

 “What is it that you are giving me a chance for?” I asked, lightly pulling away from her hand only for her grip and the blood to keep it intact.

 “Befriend me.”

 I restated her response in my head, and I stuttered, “What? Befriend?”

 “Yes. I want a friend who understands me, is all.”

 “And you will let me live?”

 “Oh, it would be beyond life for you if you are successful, I promise you.”

 That is all? I was surprised to see it was a simple task- how does one fail to befriend someone, even if it’s a being like this, but the beauty should be enticing enough to do so anyway- the intimidation came from her threat of murder and her superior presence rather than anything else of her.

 “Fine, I can be your friend.”

 “Wonderful then. Prepare yourself.” Lamb put her other hand with her bow to my side, and in a pure instant everything shook in color and depth, making my insides tremble at the sudden transition in vision.

 Nothing but darkness; Lamb illuminated the empty matter around her, filling my view with nothing but her and pure blackness. It was like the dreams I have had in the past, with one subject and one subject only, directing all my attention to such, and, in this case, Lamb. I could not tell for sure that when she faced me if she was truly staring at me, or if she really had eyes under the mask at all.

 At first, I was petrified; this being of magical entity had just possibly taken me into another  dimension, or at least some especially isolated location. Her physical contact on me paralyzed me, and not out of fear or emotion, but  _ literally _ \- I could not move until she finally let go of me and took a step away from me.

 Once the paralysis was lifted, I came to my senses and was relieved that it was warmer than previously- in fact, it was a perfect temperature, and my flaring cheeks lightened to their normal tone again and I could truly calm myself.

 “Where did you take me?” I asked, feeling my side where she had set her hand.

 “An absence of life and existence. Worry not, you are still alive; it is here we can focus on nothing but each other.” Lamb knelt down, inviting me to sit with her, and I did so, crossing my legs.

 “Indulge me into yourself, Vincent,” said Lamb, her voice full of doubt.

 “Could you at least do what you did to my ankle to my hand?” I asked desperately, showing my still bleeding hand which’s pain was returning.

 “If I believe you are worth it, then I will.”

 I frowned, unpleased with her response, but I immediately wiped it from my face when I remembered my situation. I took an end of my coat and tore a long piece of fur from it, wrapping it around my hand to stop the bleeding.

 I looked up at her, and she was still looking at me, or at least my direction. To start a conversation, I asked her, “You enjoy hunting, yes?”

 “To some extent,” she answered, “I enjoy some challenge, yet when the prey lets themselves go easily, I find pleasure in their acceptance.”

 “You call them prey- is your work a game to you?”

 “I am Death, Vincent- what else can I call a game besides the work I must have for eternity? It is all I know that can satisfy me.”

 “If you know it is all that can satisfy you, then why do you ask for people to befriend you?”

 “To give a chance, of course.” Lamb tilted her head to her side, and she looked back and continued, “I know I was of a lesser being, like you, in some time of my life. I do not know what I truly was, nor do I recall what I knew as that being. My memory has faded over time, and I have learned that if I cannot recall anything from the past, then… There was nothing worth remembering. I find that disheartening.”

 “I can see why you would feel like that,” I said, “Can you not recollect any memories of your friends then?”

 “Friends? No… Friends of now? No… Naturally, why would anyone want to befriend a spirit of Death? The cause of people’s good friends to leave them one day unexpectedly? The reason people with near-death experiences succumb to insanity?

 “Because all those reasons…” Lamb finally showed visible emotion through her mask- the light inside the mask darkened and brightened again, similar to the fashion of a blink.

 “Is Death all there is to you? I can believe that if you have the strengths to heal others, you are more than what you say you are.”

 She said nothing for a moment, and there was a drag of silence. I was afraid to repeat myself or ask of her without hearing an answer, but I was not discomforted by the time of lack of response- instead, it felt as an excuse to stare at her without judgement, intoxicating me as I picked at her fur with my eyes.

 Finally, she answered with subtle affection, “You believe I could be more than Death?”

 “Of course.”

 “You’re only saying such because…”

 “Because it can be true,” I finished for her, “It must be, to me. Death wouldn’t be beautiful- that is for a psychopath to see. You must be beyond it, or possibly Death connected with something otherwise- like an angel, you see?”

 “An angel! To call me an angel, dear! An angel would have a swift doing of every relief it performed if one were to play as Death.”

 “Why must it be a swift one? Perhaps it could turn the victim into a student, and teach them something to carry in the afterlife. At least my probable death to satisfy your hunger would take me with something learnt.”

 Lamb quivered in place, and she took my cut hand and place it between hers, and it twitched as I felt my skin sealing itself magically. I was again frozen, but it felt soothing to be as she healed me without any words needlessly spoken. Her hands were darker and less furry from her wrist to her fingers, conflicting with the white fur that blanketed all along her arms.

 Whenever Lamb neared herself towards me at all, her glowing radiance warmed me so pleasantly; she was a living being of sun rays, pulsing a sense beyond Death like I described her to be. She was certainly angelic- there was never a decreed way they must work, so she could definitely be described as one… 

 When she returned me my hand, I looked at my palm- the cut never seemed to have existed.

 “Thank you,” I said, opening and closing my fingers.

 “It’s simple, isn’t it?” commented Lamb.

 “What is?”

 “Being a friend. People always look upon me with such fear that they cannot trust me. I have nothing to be gained from being deceiving- most concepts of humanity and such are irrelevant to me to begin with. Yet, regardless of my approach to it, they shun me of my wisdom. At least they still make good killing.”

 She reminded me of something on the subject, and I asked, “Do you enjoy murder?”

 “Not exactly. I hunger for it, absolutely, but I do not enjoy the act of harm. It is the relief I long for the most- the end to one’s suffering. Life is beautiful, but isn’t death even more if it it lifts the burdens for some people?”

 I was still, bewildered with my own thoughts, and I asked her, “Why did you come for  _ me _ then?”

 “I…” She stopped herself, likely thinking, before continuing, “Because, I have watched over you quite a bit.”

 “Oh?”   
 “I know you adore fur.  _ Greatly _ .”

 “I’ll admit to that hoping I won’t be judged.”

 “I also know your experience with hunting. I see your passion, and how energetic you become in the battle between man and animal. Dear, you turn more vicious than the animals themselves if they become hostile. It entices me- You see it more than a game; you see it as…”

 “As a need.” I finished her sentence without thinking, but I surprised myself for saying such a thing. I had never considered my passion for the hunt to be a need- an obsession yes, but is that the same? Is it truly something I need to live, or at least stay sane?

 “Yes!” Lamb exclaimed, being the first time I had seen her raise her voice at all, “Yes… A need. It is a need. But it is a want as well, correct?”

 “Absolutely. I live for it… I even wish I could travel anywhere like you to slay the beasts I found. Well, I can imagine you only come for humans and nothing more.”

 “Not only humans, but all humanoids: yordles, hybrids, even Darkin if I feel they pose a threat… anything that chooses to defy death will face me as well. I am not the cause for all death, of course, but I will always be there to either witness it or cause it.

 “But, digressing from that, since I believe you desire a full answer, I watched over you frequently because I believed you could relate to me with honesty.”

 “You acted a little… impulsive, shooting me with an arrow when you could have simply talked to me,” I said with slight irritance.

 “I knew it wasn’t going to kill, mind you! I had seen your instinctive play with the beasts you’ve stumbled upon, with surprise or purposely- I had seen you catching the arrow in my head like you had then!”

 “And if I did not catch it?”

 “Then I would rip it out of you with a staunch grip and pull and relieve you of your pain as I had just now.”

 I do not know if it was the entire answer or the way she said “staunch,” but I couldn’t help but laugh, “Fine, fine then. If you are as obsessed with the hunt as I am, then, yes, I can relate very much so, to some extent at least.”

 “But, tell me, for I have not been watching over you long enough to know- have you ever killed a man?”

 “Oh, no. I couldn’t do that.”

 “Or is it that you wouldn’t?”

 “Er, I would not.”

 “Why so?”

 I stared at her blankly for a second, wondering if she was asking these questions they way she intended, and I answered, “Because it’s murder, and murder is wrong- simple as that.”

 “But what is it that makes the act of murder so sinful? Is it that the victim wishes to live, or is it the selfish action in performing it- or is it the pain rather than the result?”

 “I-”

 “Or is it,” Lamb interrupted, “because others do not allow it?”

 “I think all those reasons… But I’ve never needed a reason to kill a man.”

 “Then take that mentality and imagine what it is like for me: so many souls stripped from their bodies by me because of my incurable curse of hunger, whether or not they were guilty of any wrongdoing in their life. Sometimes, I take whatever comes across my path, even from nature, to satisfy me, but soon I need more.

 “I cannot live with this as a spirit of Death; I have no moderation with myself. I cannot be content. I need to release this burden somehow, or… or, manage it, in some _ way _ . Vincent, how do you manage your obsession?”

 I realized the serious tone in her voice and of her situation, but I let out a chuckle in hearing that. “I don’t manage it. I simply feed it.”

 “The difference between you and me,” I continued, “Is that you refer to your hunger as a curse, which I understand; my obsession is beyond a curse. It is my life, and feeding it allows me to live.”

 Lamb did not respond; instead, she very slowly leaned towards me in her spot, unknowingly it seemed, and she mumbled, almost too quiet for me to hear, “You’re  _ perfect _ .”

 “Pardon?” I mumbled myself.

 “Nothing- Vincent, I know what you have had your eye on.”

 “You do?”

 “Of course- I’ve watched you, remember? It was probably the first to enter your sight as my presence was bestowed upon you, knowing how you are.” Lamb took my right hand and gently moved it towards her side, and immediately I turned red and pulled my arm away, resisting the paralysis.

 “No, no, you do not need to…” I found myself lost at words as she took my hand again.

 “Let me feed you life,” she said calmly, and my hand slowly flustered with pleasure, one finger at a time, as it was placed to her side above her waist. I was still for a short moment, but then finally I emotionally caressed the fur up and down as my mind turned drugged and I lost all senses but touch.

 It was truly not only the softest fur I had felt in my entire life, but entirely the softest thing  _ ever _ to exist no doubt. Every movement I made with my hand only led me to want to feel more, and I put my other hand to her shoulder without thinking, and in a short moment I hugged her with such great gratitude. I had never thought that fur, as much as I was already hypnotized by its nature in the past, could be as compelling as this.

 Still without any sense in thought, I continued to hug her tightly, feeling her bushy hair of groomed fur from her head, and my other hand ran down to her leg. Apparently just as enthusiastic about it, Lamb wrapped her arms around me and hugged as well, pulling herself onto my legs so that my head was at her chest level, where I childishly rested my head against with beautiful comfort.

 “Absorbed, are you?” she whispered, breaking my mindless train of actions.

 “Oh, goodness, I’m sorry-”

 “No, this is fine. This is what I wanted all along, I promise you- a chance to intertwine with a potential companion.”

 “How do you exist in this world?” I suddenly asked, with no thought of it coming out, nor any consideration for what she had said.

 “How do I exist?..”   
 “The purity and perfection of you is beyond anything I could imagine. You’re too innocent to exist in a reality full of so much evil and corruption, even if you are cursed with an act of sin yourself.”

 “Believe me, Vincent, I have no innocence at all. I’ve seen more than you ever will.”

 “It isn’t that sort of innocence, though- it’s indescribable. It’s more that I don’t deserve to even make contact with you. Your presence overwhelms me immensely, and I felt such since you looked down on me.”

 Lamb giggled quietly, the first noise she made besides actual words, and her tail wagged left and right a few times in delight- as far as I knew, at least. I was not sure what she was feeling with the mask hiding her face, but I knew it was positive.

 I was still drawn red in emotion for the situation, and my face only turned darker of the color with her sitting on me now, her legs trapping mine. It was then that I realized that as much she was an animal being, she seemed much like a human- a beautiful female figure, actually. Now I was determined to see what was under her mask.

 “Lamb,” I said, the flaring of my face entering my voice, “Why do you wear a mask?”

 “My mask? I’m afraid to reveal myself.”

 “Why so? You could be beyond everything there is- what is there to be afraid of?”

 “I’m not always successful in my work. I don’t live up to the spirit of the hunt at times, and, in other cases, I simply fall flat against my prey. So then I receive a reputation- it is the only reason I am known by anyone.”

 She sighed, resting her head over mine, “Because I fail… So many times, for thousands of years… Have you never heard myths or stories of the Lamb of Death?”

 Now that she had mentioned it, a few memories arose in my head: a passing party of performers once stopped in the village to enact a play, and there was a woman in a deformed mask and an all white costume, though she carried a sword. Another time, when I visited Zaun, I remember seeing an art gallery. There, there were a collection of paintings of a white animal, carrying a bow, no doubt depicting Lamb.

 I answered, “In some forms, I have.”

 “Those come from the people who evaded me. And then I am mocked, laughed at- they say that even Death itself cannot perform its work correctly, and…”

 Lamb put a hand behind my head and grasped me, “And they call me ‘it’! Can I not be living? Why must Death herself be dead? Can I not be seen to be alive? Do I not breath life like you all do?”

 “You certainly do feel warm and alive,” I said, holding her like a blanket in the winter, “I honestly cannot see how anyone could have failed to befriend you in the past when all it could take is a simple hug from you to lose sight of everything there is.”

 She giggled again- the constant throw of her voice that seemed to come above rather than from herself made me feel I could transcend to amazing strengths. Never was I so overwhelmed with comfort and the love for a friend… Though, it could have been more than a friendly love, but I was too embarrassed only from thinking about it.

 But as if she was reading my thoughts, Lamb subtly pushed her body against mine; there was no sense of floor or ground below us, so as she laid herself on top of me with my body straight, it was like we were just floating in place in an empty void. I was mute of my voice as she trapped me in, one arm around my shoulder and head and the other’s hand caressing my hair.

 “There’s a lot of darkness in your character,” she thought aloud.

 “Darkness? What darkness?”

 “Your hair and clothing, so much black- you’re like an animal yourself, taking charge for a hunt. Like a  _ wolf _ .”

 “A wolf?.. That’s an unusual way to describe me.”

 “But is it wrong?” Her mask was very near to my face, her eyes gazing into my soul. It seemed like a whole other dimension existed inside her mask, full of every answer to the universe’s mysteries, and I was compelled to swipe it off her face and stare into the magnificence… I restrained myself though, worried of the consequences that could result in doing such a thing. Instead, I wrapped my arms around her back, submerging one hand in her luscious hair.

 “I could see myself as a wolf,” I said, “Imagine that: a Lamb and a Wolf, together like this.”

 “Together… Together like this…” Lamb’s mask finally came too close and she touched my face. The mask felt chippy like wood, but it looked to be made from something otherwise. But, unlike the rest of her ambient warmth, the mask of white and dark purple color was in a dead, cold panic, and the tip of my nose turned numb.

 Probably realizing the discomfort my nose against her mask, she turned her head over and rested it next to mine. Her short, little tail wagged with passion, slowing itself to rest as her mask’s eye holes darkened to nothing. I said nothing at first, and it came to me that she had fallen asleep- Death can sleep? Apparently so.

 Her glow of heat dissipated, and it was dark. The ground below me returned, and my back shouted a spring of pain in my lower half. We were in the forest again, and I picked a bothersome rock that was under me and threw it aside. I wondered why now we had returned here, connecting it to Lamb’s nap, and I simply remained still with her steady breathing comforting me.

 The comfort did not last very long though; without her aura, she was as cold as the air around. I shivered, holding Lamb tighter, hoping for her warmth to return. Instead, I turned colder myself. I turned my head side to side, trying to figure out the direction to the village, but there wasn’t a single light to be seen anywhere but for the moon and stars above.

 I whispered to Lamb a few times, trying to awake her softly: “Lamb, wake up… Wake up for me.” She showed no reaction, and I lifted her head to above mine and said whispered again, louder now.

 Then I raised my voice a small bit, “Lamb! Wake up, please. It’s cold.” My shivering entered my voice; I shook her by her sides, and I pulled at her hair a little. I needed her warmth back, and soon- I couldn’t leave her alone, for my own sanity, and I couldn’t find it in me to move her over and make a fire myself, though it was far too dark to see anything.

 In the excruciating darkness, I rested Lamb’s mask on my face again, desperate for her to come to life again. She had gone deep to sleep so easily, and would awake to nothing. I was vastly curious of what was under the mask, even if I could see nothing of it, and my temptation took the best of me in the risk of removing it.

 To even put my fingers under the mask made me tremble- it was warmer underneath than the outside of it, and I grew hesitant yet still determined to reveal her face. I turned her head over and slid it off in a single swipe, and I dropped it into the grass beside us as if it had burnt my finger, but rather it simply felt that I had removed a part of her that may have been best left alone.

 Still darkness- only the dimly lit sky, where all the clouds and left, was present against the silhouette of trees and the blessed fur bush of Lamb’s head. The removal of her mask did nothing different but potentially reveal her face. For all I knew, in this black view, there could be  _ no _ face until I felt for it.

 Very carefully, I placed my hand upon the hidden contents of where her mask originally sat, and I was surprised. No fur- soft, smooth flesh, just like a human’s. I gently ran a finger along what turned into a face: cheek, chin, a cheek again, nose, and finally the lips. I lifted my finger when I felt the exhalation of breath escape her mouth, the warmth of it making me shiver even more. I placed my finger on her forehead, and I trailed it down the bridge of her nose- there was no bridge. Her nose felt like a dot, tiny and stubby.

 Her breathing was so light and real, and I found myself breathing in unison with her. I wanted to see her face so badly, but all I could do was feel her face continuously. Just from touching I knew it was full of such great purity, as the rest of her was, and I imagined that it was the cleanest skin to ever exist and I was staining it with my hands of sin.

 Her head was placed over my shoulder beside my head, and every exhalation she made my neck tickle with all sorts of emotion. My heart was beating with so much anticipation and demand for me to express my love; I suppressed it all I could, to the point my chest was aching in pain and my heart was begging for me to perform my true desires.

 I had to give into it, or my heart would have exploded. I turned her face directly over mine, nose to nose, and I tilted my own and lightly touched her lips with mine, closing my eyes to make my own face of her in my mind, and I kissed her- instantly, everything lit up, and her eyes opened in shock as she pulled herself away with a shout, standing up straight and swiping her mask to hide herself again.

 It was a blur, but I saw her face as she lit up with life: she did have eyes, ones just like mine, but they glew with the amazing blue and purple grains of creation- I was forever taken. Just the simple sight of her eyes had drawn me into a permanent love spell for her, and I knew in my mind I would never be relieved of it. The skin of her face was as white as her fur, and it looked to have never seen the light of day; pale, but free of the terrible things of this world.

 She said she had been around for thousands of years, but her the young clarity and depth of her face said otherwise. With immortality, she was not just forever living- she was forever young. She had complained of those who defy death, but she herself has the infinitely lasting beauty that all in existence long for- in what way is that fair?

 Described simply, her face was drawn like a character out of a dream, with perfection beyond anything I had ever seen, and the moment she had awaken and her eyes opened with her sudden burst of radiating light, it was confirmed that I would never see any creature, human, or sight live up to her magnificence.

 Yet, she was so embarrassed and hasty to conceal herself behind the mask, and she cried at me, “What are you doing, Vincent?!” The eye holes filled with the brightness of her hidden eyes, fueled with her shock.

 It would have been right to apologize for removing her mask, especially when I had already foreseen her reacting in such a way, but the kiss I placed upon her and the sight of her dreamlike beauty made me think otherwise.

 I sat up with her, meeting my hands around her back, and I told her passionately, “Lamb, you transcend above anyone and anything there is. You should see there is no reason to hide yourself behind your mask- your beauty defines you, and it is an unreal definition, I tell you. I love it… And I love  _ you _ . I must have you.”

 With her face in my mind, I could now tell her thoughts under the mask- she couldn’t find her words, and she started once, and then twice before stopping herself. She eventually sputtered in disbelief, “Vincent, you speak blindly…”

 “No! I want you, Lamb! You call yourself Lamb but I know within under your fur, your reputation as Death, and that cursed mask you are a woman! I promise, you are!”

 Lamb stared at me; then, I could tell she was staring into me. Her eyes darkened, and she shivered as I did before. I took a hand and touched her mask from the bottom, and I slowly began to lift it. She did not stop me, and soon she was blinded behind the lower part of her mask and her quivering mouth was revealed.

 Her head leaned back slightly, and her lips parted on their own. I reached out with my own lips and took her in a strong kiss- she knew not what to do, but after a long moment of stillness in the moment, her senses got the best of her and she pushed into the kiss herself. Further into it, she slipped her mask off and our hands moved around each other’s heads as I fell back with her.

 Our kiss stopped, and she pulled her lips away a little to look at me in the eyes to only come close again. Her initiation of a kiss was odd, as if she was inexperienced, but I could not tell if it was because she had not felt such love in so long or if she was truly unfamiliar with such a thing- I couldn’t tell for myself what the love life of a spirit of Death would be.

 But if it was nonexistent before, it had sparked now, Lamb realizing what she had been missing all of her life. Her legs moved up and down along mine in excitement. Even if she was without any experience, the passion substituted for it very well, and as long as I could feel her love through her body I was happier than ever.

 “Vincent,” she said between breaths, “I… I’m sorry, I don’t know if I should be doing this…”

 “Why not? Aren’t you feeling it too?” I asked.

 “I’ve never shown this affection for anyone before.”

 “Then why could it be wrong? Do as your heart says, Lamb.”

 She quivered and closed her eyes as she moaned uncomfortably, “No, it’s more than that… I can feel my love for you as well, but there’s another desire inside me that I’m afraid to open up.”

 “Open up to me, please. I’m not afraid of anything now. Just be who you are.”

 “I… Vincent…” Lamb moved close and touched her tiny, black, sheep nose on the tip of mine, “I want you to be mine forever, entangled with my spirit, but as much do I want to be yours. More than that, I  _ need _ your greatest passion with me.”

 “You need me to give my all… Is that what you mean?”

 “Yes!” Lamb held her hands around my face, full of ecstasy, “Yes, Vincent, every edge of your heart; I need it  _ all _ .”

 “I see your desires, and they match mine. No words- just kiss me.” We continued our spree of love, my mind blank of all that led to this moment and only the instinct of how to love remaining. I felt her up and down, from her head of hair to her hot, pulsing chest and then her sexy legs. I even went as low as her hooves just to feel the entirety of her, and as I returned my hand to her hips, I entered it between them and rubbed gently.

 She made a cute, jumpy cry and her hips clapped shut, my hand trapped between her legs. “What is that down there?! Is that you?”

 “Of course it is, Lamb- does it alarm you that much?”

 “It- It's  _ that _ you want to do? The lovemaking?”

 “Aren't you familiar with it?”

 “I am, but I… How could I have ever experienced this in the past? I have never had this frenzy of emotion towards anyone!”

 “Then share the first of it with me! If you want my all, you will have it!”

 She squirmed at the feeling, and she asked, “Is this what I must do to be one with you?”

 “No- it's what  _ we _ must do to be one. I promise. It feels wonderful, don't you know?”

 She closed her eyes and laid her forehead against mine, and she said in a whisper, “Then let me be one with you.”

 I continued to rub against her parts hidden beneath her layers, digging my fingers deeper into the fur to finally make contact with her skin and feel her body tingle with every movement. Her mouth twitched as she tried to make out what she was feeling from it, making moans she covered up innocently. I could tell I was touching where she had never been felt by anyone, but I wasn’t sure myself if that pushed me more to carry on or to slow myself- I assumed it was the first of the two.

 “It’s so overwhelming,” said Lamb, and she covered her face as it turned red, “I don’t like it.”

 “It’s only like this at first,” I explained, “I promise.”

 She reached out to her side and retrieved her mask, hiding her face once again, “Let me wear this, at least… I’m more comfortable with it.”

 I was saddened by it, but I didn’t argue against her desire for comfort. Instead, I put my head to her side and rested my face in her fluff of fur that covered her from the neck to chest. She was a living pillow, raising my head up and down with her breaths while supplying me with a comfort unknown to only those who have touched her themselves- possibly a nonexistent amount to consider.

 Even though she did hide herself under the mask, she had not covered her face entirely, and her mouth was revealed; her lips clenched and adjusted as I moved my fingers up and down the opening. Our breaths entered the air in visible puffs together, and her whole body of fur flourished in the excitement, tempting me even further into the bonding.

 When I was confident enough, I slid only the tip of two fingers inside her, anticipating her reaction. She threw her torso up in shock, but I held my arm around her kept my face buried in her fur. Neither of us said anything, but her weak, quiet moans stopped for the sudden outburst of senses, and she rested herself back to the ground as the moans returned with my slight movements of the hand, a bit louder than before now.

 Relative to her passionately mature and strong yet settled voice, her quiet cries of emotion contradicted her position as a spirit of Death, for they proved her inexperience so much that they sounded to come from a young girl. Perhaps the honest portrayal of Lamb was nothing but a simple young woman, which would reason for her enjoyment in relieving people rather than the hunger for death she is cursed with.

 The realization baffled me at first, but then it made me feel… just, happy. Death  _ isn’t _ something to fear. It is a relief, and this moment I was living now is proof of that. I kissed the bit of neck uncovered by her fur and turned both of us over, and she gasped lightly in finding herself now on bottom.

 “Ahh…” Lamb whimpered, “You look so large now, over me like this… I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before.”

 “Is that bad?”

 “I… It’s  _ new  _ is all I can say of it. My physical senses are erupting so fast and suddenly… I- I think I was never truly a physical entity in this world. I was only here, but never a part of it… Why?”

 “Maybe you never found a reason to be. Am I enough for you?”

 She was breathless in thought, then she glew with great warmth as she held me closer, saying, “Yes, you’re  _ everything _ that I have searched for. I want to be a part of you forever, and have a piece of you within me for eternity.”

 It seemed she wanted to say more of her love, but instead she turned her knees towards each other and shook, crying out, “Goodness, the  _ heat _ !”

 “You do not need to do this if you don’t want to, Lamb,” I assured her, “My desires of you are  _ far _ beyond anything sexual, I promise you.”

 “No, I know this must be done for us both. I know the act of love is the greatest expression a man can make upon a woman. The entanglement with an eternal partner means overcoming all new experiences and embracing every way there is to show love… As long as you do it out of love, I want you to fulfill all of your fantasies with me.”

 In the second after she said those words, I had truly come to the conclusion that this was my heavenly reality I was in, and that I had died in my sleep. Such a creature- no, such a  _ woman _ could not exist in this world of absolute sin, corruption… even just filth! For such fur to be so hypnotizing and clean, it made me wonder how people could come near Death and feel nothing but sadness to lose sight of such a beauty!

 I wanted all of Lamb, every inch of her body and mind.

 I had been rubbing her all the time we spoke, and her dramatic breaths soothed into quieter moans of pleasure, and I could see her slight smile below her mask. It was wet down there now, the fur around it spread out by my hand from the insertion and sliding of the fingers. I pulled away and begin to take off my fur coat- there was plenty heat for the both of us from the intense warmth that was pulsing from Lamb.

 She stopped me from doing so though, pulling the coat back to its original place as she said, “Keep it on, please. I know you better in fur than skin. It’s a part of you like mine is a part of me.”

 “That certainly says how much you’ve watched over me,” I responded.

 “I’m guilty of it without any regrets.”

 “I can see that myself.” I put my hands far up along her hips and gently spread her legs open for me to position myself, and for my own preparation I loosened my lower clothing and revealed myself, only for Lamb to give out a small cry in reaction.

 “What’s wrong?” I asked.

 “Excuse me, I’m… It is bad enough to not have any experience for this, I know, but just to see it is bizarre to me.”

 “You are inexperienced then…”

 “What else would you think, Vincent? If it was difficult enough to befriend Death already, at least according to every laughable example of a human I’ve met, how much worse do you think it’d be to make love to it?”

 I caught her putting herself down and quoted, “‘It’?”

 “Her…” She sat up next to me, lowering her mask, “I’m sorry. I have been stuck in the Victorian age of the world for as long as I can remember. I feel no ability to evolve with the universe, and instead I float among everything as my chances of finding a friend grow slimmer and slimmer, until it is thinner than paper, thinner than the space between atoms.

 “I cannot move with life because I am Death, it seems.” Her eyes darkened, and her warmth dissipated.

 “It doesn’t matter, Lamb,” I told her, putting my hands to her shoulders, “One friend is all you need, let alone one partner in love. Besides, you  _ aren’t _ Death. You’re an Angel, remember?”

 Her warmth and glow returned as I spoke to her, an equivalent to the way a woman would blush at flattery. She took her right hand to my face, covering my eyes, and a kiss was unexpectedly placed upon my lips, with a strong romantic engage behind it. I leaned into it, but it was short as she pulled away and uncovered my eyes. Her mask hid her face still, but I was amused by the awfully cute gesture of her.

 She laid herself down on her back, her legs still spread, and the words fluttered through her mask to my ears in everlasting comfort: “Show me it all, Vincent.”

 I floated down upon her and stared into the depths of her seemingly infinite eyes. I could see them stare back this time, full of desire and growing frenzy as the dimensional dust within intertwined and twirled fast. I inched myself closer to her slowly, and then the tip went in with a jump in her body.

 I held her with assurance and promise as she groaned, wrapping my arms around her waist. I waited for a long moment in silent breathing, feeling her body rest itself down into place, then I moved myself deeper and deeper until I knew it was the most for Lamb.

 She squirmed in pain, seemingly fright even, and I held her still the best I could to calm her down. She cried out loudly, her hands digging into my coat intensely as her legs crossed over me- it was then that I realized how small Lamb really was, and that only before did she seem to be anything tall.

 It was long before she calmed down to a slight shiver, and all she did was breathe deeply. I asked her, “How do you feel?”

 “I… Why, Vincent?.. It feels as though you… stabbed me…”

 “It is only how it is at first. I promise it gets better.”

 “Is there a purpose for this beyond portrayal of love?.. Is there truly enjoyment in this?”

 “Believe me, Lamb: the purpose of sex to the greater population is definitely for enjoyment rather than love.”

 She spoke no more, instead setting her head back and giving slow but heavy breaths, and I finally began to calmly move myself back and forth into her.

 Oh, the ecstatic feeling that drove me senseless in the head, nothing but primitive instinct slowly taking over. It was a sin to molest such an entity of magnificence, staining her with something as simple as the feeling of my hand across her fur- to penetrate her so forcefully was an invitation to a damned eternity in hell that I wrote and sealed right up for myself… But never was there a better satisfaction out of mortgaging one’s future than what I was experiencing now.

 But for what? What were those words I spoke of? It was an act of love, surely- not just something for the pleasure of entering within her and exploiting her virginity. Her godly glow, her infinitely lifeful fur… the  _ eyes  _ which held me with a great mix of hope and fear. I would never want to insult Lamb so terribly to treat her as nothing but a tool of pleasure. She was no animal. She was not even Death- she was Life, misunderstood and cursed as she said.

 “Dear Lamb,” I said, setting my nose on her mask, “Do you feel the same? To be so flustered by the desire to be a true one entity with another, as if you could rip them open and crawl inside their skin to be as close to them as possible… Do you feel that?”

 “I… I…” She was lost with her words. Instead, her mouth slipped off and she gorged my mouth with hers. It was as if she was trying her best to retain her formality and position as Death but she only ended up giving into her weaknesses. Now she had no restraint in embracing every part of me the same; her then gentle fingers clawed at my back, and her tongue fought mine to prove her firmness against me.

 I pulled myself out and she looked at me in confusion, only to have herself flipped and my body on top of hers before I entered her once more. I pulled at her hair and held my head close to hers, hearing her gasps for breath as her body contracted and pulsed in response to every thrust I forced into her. She pointed her rear up at me, enticing me to tug at her tail like she mine to own forever. The care for her sense of safety was already gone; there was no guilt building upon anything anymore.

 I was treating our love as an art, doing everything I could to intensify her first truly physical experience. It was more than any mere deflowering- it was an awakening of everything she had been missing. Who would have thought Death itself was so sensitive and gorgeous. The blue markings upon her thighs were suddenly so erotic and sexy to me, as if they were there just to spread with the curvaceous size of her legs. I wrapped my arms around her stomach and breasts, lifting her up and down from the ground as I massaged her body with mine with every push into her, so rough like the animal she called me. I could feel my skin chafing under my clothing from the constant movement, the heat causing me to burn up so much, but the pain was so amazing. I could stand the friction as long as it did not come down elsewhere.

 I was so engulfed by all these feelings that I had forgotten she had any too: she was moaning so much, whether it was purely out of enjoyment, pain, or a mix of both. They were true in heart and body, and I wanted to hear more of it, louder. I stood up and picked up her whole body, a surge of strength coming into my arms and legs to continue moving my hips while doing such. All of her weight came upon the connection we were making- it was only so much longer before I couldn’t sustain myself anymore.

 The plan, the intent, the  _ ultimate _ goal in mind was in my reach. In a surreal sensation that almost distracted me from the endless goodness of her insides, I could feel her becoming more physical like she said: the connection she had lost or never had with the physical world of humans was being regained, revived by the most intimate act that could be performed between lovers. As an entity taken over by the state of Death herself, she needed a reminder of what life was, and I did my best to deliver that to her.

 I hunched over with her in my arms, losing myself as I climaxed inside her, and her legs shook intensely, quivering as her insides turned hot, marked by a part of me forever. I held myself inside her until I was content with every bit that I tainted her with, finally withdrawing myself after a long moment of collecting our breaths. I dropped her to the ground- she couldn’t bother to stand, laying down with her face in the dirt and her legs spread out without a point in closing them now.

 I fell on my knees and indulged in the sight that I created, looking upon her with violent eyes. There was no longer a beautiful radiance or warmth pulsing from her anymore, only the presence of a real physical being- a humanoid lamb whose sexual beauty was overlooked by the young purity in her fantastic fur. I was trembling in anticipation, almost drooling over the animal I claimed as mine.

 Then, Lamb turned over, giving one last exhale, and she stared with her eyes that glew exotically, saying, “Vincent, dear… Be with me, forever. We needn’t the physical act of love to express the value we hold for one another.” She stood on her knees, crawling over and putting her hands on my shoulders, “Please, be my Wolf; be the Hunter I need to live through this curse; be the partner I have desired for so long. You are the one to show me this physical world correctly, the one to befriend me honestly- take me in as I take you in, and embrace me as Death together.”

 She wrapped her arms around me and put her head over my shoulder, hugging me with every last bit of energy she had before she left the physical world again, either with or without me. I could feel her fading, trying to take me with her, and I sat there in silence, thinking, wondering, pondering…

 And then, with a swift motion of my arm from my side to her neck, I struck her with my knife. I stabbed at the side of it, moving her off of me and falling with her to the ground. She did not bleed, even if she was as physical as she could be- instead, an essence spilled from her, similar to the mystical material her arrow was made up of, and it dissolved into nothing once it left her body and leaked into the dirty. Her mouth was still, gaping in true shock, and her eyes were frozen with mine, betrayed so easily. I drove the knife deeper, holding her head in place as I waited for her to give in to defeat. Her eyes flickered, but they did not close. Their light faded, her body grew dark. The mask and bow to the side faded away to another dimension.   
 I leaned close and lastly told her, “I’ve always been the Hunter. You’re just a prey with fur I must have, little one.”

 And it was cold once more.

 

 I carried the lamb’s corpse back to my dwelling, and I stayed up for days and nights to skin the animal of its fur and purify it for use. Never have I had such a successful hunt: a lamb with the most perfect textile. I knew what I must do with it: I would make the most comfortable attire, from the ankles to the neck. There was plenty of fur to spare, a majority of it coming from the mane of the animal’s head. It was the strangest catch I’ve had as well, needless to say why.

 I cherished the fur more than my own life. With that, the lamb itself definitely served for some delicious meat, with an exotic taste that made me think the animal came from a land far away, somehow stumbling in the wrong direction to the right hunter. For years on, I wore the attire like it was my skin. I cleaned it, but I never bathed, seeing it to be a part of me forever. I never needed another coat, blanket, or person to stay warm again. I had everything I needed from this textile- I  _ won _ life. I had eternal happiness, I truly did!

 One night, the fur started to latch onto me strangely, as if it had grown sentient and wanted to stick to me even more than before. It was more mental than physical, and I began to toss and turn every night, struggling to sleep. I had nightmares of being hunted by something stronger, faster, more  _ hungry _ than me. All of my sweat would be absorbed by the fur and only make the dreams worse.

 Finally, I awoke to the slamming of a door when I was having the worst of nightmares; the door was opened in an instant, and in the doorway was a pale figure of darkness- no light, no mercy, and no life of any sort. It was a lamb, but it bore no face, not even a mask to hide its deformity. Instead, there was a pit of black engraved into it, void of emotion and purpose.

 “Vincent,” it said in a familiar voice, “You have you not upheld our trade. You took away my comfort but have not soothed this curse of mine.” It limped towards me, its head loosely attached to its neck. It was missing something, not its skin or body, but a connection beyond anything physical. “Vincent, return yourself into the grave you have dug. You are mine as much as I am yours. Embrace as you must.”

 I resisted, “No.  _ No _ , you were dead. You can’t come back… I  _ killed _ you!”

 “Oh, Vincent,” it said, coming closer to my bed, “You killed only the bit of life you gave me. I had nothing to lose. But you… You have everything.”

 She pulled up her bow and steadied a shot. My whole body couldn’t move. I was paralyzed in fear, shivering too much to react.

 “I will let this shot kill this time,” she said, and I was blinded by a flash of blue light before all senses of mine were taken by darkness.

 

 An anomaly awoke me, but I was never asleep. It was an existence that was sudden, as if I had no prior life. Before me was Lamb, my dear Lamb, so beautiful as my one and only friend, yet so pitiful for her ways. I looked up to her, but I could see she looked up to me. Her mask hid nothing- I knew what she felt, what she thought, what she saw, what she knew.

 And I knew what we both needed.

 “Rise, Wolf,” she said, “We have a task at hand. Carry on with me with this hunt.”

 My instincts rose, and I laughed, “Carry on I will, Lamb, but only if you can catch up!”

 I, Death, carried on, and Death followed as well.


End file.
